


you get cut, I feel the pain

by killianslonghaul



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:46:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killianslonghaul/pseuds/killianslonghaul
Summary: She speaks quickly, the words spilling from her lips like a dam breaking. “Drive careful, please.”Her voice shakes and her breath catches just a little, against her best intentions. And even in his worry and fear, he’s still her best friend. He still notices. Even without seeing his face, she can see the change in his demeanor, the recognition of why she’s making the request so desperately.or Bellamy asks Clarke to watch Octavia so he can go look for their mom. Hurt/Comfort, with some feelings.





	you get cut, I feel the pain

**Author's Note:**

> I cuddled with a child that I was babysitting the other night, and then there was a flow of cognition that led to me thinking about Clarke cuddling with Octavia, and this was born from that. Real life inspires art, or something. Enjoy!

_wish I had the words to tell ya,_  
_but I got an umbrella_  
_and I think it’s big enough_  
_for the both of us_

If anyone else would have called Clarke at one o’clock in the morning, waking her up, she would have ignored it. But “Bellamy” is the name lighting up her screen when she squints at her phone in the dark, and as both her best friend and the boy that she loves wholeheartedly, she answers as soon as her brain can tell her body to react.

“Hello?”

“Can you come over here?”

Clarke’s heart jumps in her chest at the suggestion, a gut reaction, but then she registers the worry in his voice and she’s moving to her dresser and grabbing clothes as she speaks. “Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Mom never came home, and I need someone to watch Octavia while I go look for her.”

“Again?” she asks, dread pooling in her stomach. It’s a familiar feeling of fear—a worried seventeen year old Bellamy, frantic over his wayward mother, terrified at the effect it might have on his ten year old sister. The downward spiral of their mother is taking its toll on both of them.

She can hear shuffling in the background, and then a pause as he sighs. “Yeah. I… I talked to her this week about what she’s been doing and I thought…”

Holding the phone to her ear so she can tie her shoes, Clarke waits for a moment to see if he’ll finish his thought. When he doesn’t, she squeezes her eyes shut for a second. “I’m so sorry, Bellamy.”

“I just need to go look for her, I have to try to find her. Can you—“

He breaks off and she can tell it’s because he’s trying not to cry. Her chest squeezes, and tears prick her own vision. She grabs her keys off the hook and throws a hoodie over her head, slipping into a pair of sandals. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

The breath he releases sounds like relief. “Thank you, princess.”

Driving to Bellamy’s house is nearly effortless, even in the middle of the night. She knows the route so well, knows each turn as if it’s tattooed on her brain. On the way, she tries to keep from driving recklessly, tries to keep her breathing steady, tries to pull herself together so she can do whatever she needs to help him.

She’s just worried, so unbelievably worried that it twists up her gut and makes her breath come in short bursts. She hates that Bellamy has to deal with this. She hates watching him clench up when the phone rings, terrified that it’s someone telling him that his mother was found dead somewhere. She hates that most nights, he is the one feeding and taking care of his sister. She hates that there isn’t more she can do.

When she gets to his house, the door is already unlocked and she walks in to see Bellamy fully dressed, sitting on the couch. He gets up as soon as she enters, touching her arm briefly. “Hey, as far as I know, O is still asleep in my room. I’ll try to keep you posted, okay?”

He heads toward the door and all she can see is another day, years ago, where her mom and dad had a fight that ended in her dad walking out the door, angry and upset. She had watched the door slam, closed her eyes against the harshness of it, and cried herself to sleep that night. She never saw her dad alive again, all because he’d driven angry.

She speaks quickly, the words spilling from her lips like a dam breaking. “Drive careful, please.”

Her voice shakes and her breath catches just a little, against her best intentions. And even in his worry and fear, he’s still her best friend. He still notices. Even without seeing his face, she can see the change in his demeanor, the recognition of why she’s making the request so desperately.

His hand freezes on the doorknob and she hears him take a deep breath, his shoulders falling from their tense position just a little. Then, he’s turning, wrapping her in a hug so tight it almost hurts. She clings to him, pressing her face into his neck and doing everything in her power not to cry. He doesn’t need her to fall apart on him—he needs her to be strong.  

“Just come back to me, okay?” she requests quietly, her voice muffled a little by his coat.

“I will, princess,” he breathes, his lips pressing against her hair. “I promise.”

She nods a little into his chest, and he gives her one more squeeze before letting her go. Looking out the window, she waits until his tail lights have disappeared completely before walking down the hallway to check on Octavia. The house is quiet, but when she pokes her head inside Bellamy’s room, Octavia is sitting up in his bed, looking small settled in the middle of the queen sized mattress. Her legs are crossed in front of her, and she is staring at her hands in her lap.

Clarke approaches slowly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and turning her body toward her best friend’s little sister, hating that she’s already seen more heartbreak than any pre-teen should.

Octavia takes a deep breath, her eyes closed, and looks as if she might say something. Then, her face pinches up and she’s crying, big fat tears streaming down her cheeks. Clarke pulls her close immediately, tucking the small girl underneath her chin and holding tight.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispers, stroking at Octavia’s hair. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“You can’t leave,” the small girl whimpers, clutching at Clarke’s arms.

Her heart constricts painfully, and she holds even tighter to Octavia. “I won’t, I won’t. I won’t leave.”

Octavia cries in Clarke’s arms until she can’t anymore, until she’s cried out completely, until she falls asleep on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke shifts them until they’re both lying down, keeping Octavia close in hopes that she can quell any nightmares that try to haunt her. She turns a little, her eyes fluttering briefly, but she doesn’t wake up.

So, Clarke wraps an arm around her and closes her eyes, suddenly feeling every bit like she was woken up in the middle of the night. Exhaustion starts to pull at her, tucked into Bellamy’s bed with his little sister, waiting for her phone to vibrate to tell her that he’s coming home, that he’s okay. She picks up her arm to check her phone, and, seeing the empty screen, sits it down on the pillow beside her head where she can easily see it.

Then, she settles even further into the mattress and holds onto Octavia, thinking about how small she is, how young. She and Bellamy aren’t much older, in the grand scheme of things, yet she suddenly feels years beyond her actual age.

Her phone screen lights up—Bellamy sent her a text. She picks up her phone quickly, squinting at the bright light to see what he said.

**Gonna check a few more places, just**  
**wanted to let you know I’m okay. Be**  
**back soon.**

**Okay, thank you. Octavia  
is asleep. Be safe.**

She hits send, waits as a bubble pops up to indicate that he’s typing. It appears and disappears twice before a message comes through, short and simple.

**I will.**

She wonders what else he had typed out, what he had decided against saying, locking her phone and setting it back down on the pillow. It’s the last conscious thoughts she has, until she feels the bed shift under someone’s weight behind her, until a hand reaches over her head to pick her phone up, until a warm body is pressed close to her under the comforter. She blinks awake, feeling a brief moment of panic. Then, her body recognizes it as Bellamy and she starts to sit up, only for a hand to gently push her back down.

“Stay, it’s okay. You can stay.” His thumb traces circles on her arm. She shifts, turning over until she’s facing him. Octavia is still asleep at her back, and through the light coming in from a street lamp outside the window, she can see Bellamy’s face. He doesn’t look worried, just tired.

“Your mom?”

He shifts a little closer, almost as if he’s cold. “I found her. She’s alright. Thank you for watching O.”

“No problem.”

His eyes close, and it’s with a start that Clarke sees the moisture shining on the side of his nose. “What am I gonna do, Clarke? She’s… I can’t…”

He never finishes the sentence, and he huffs in frustration, pressing his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes. She moves closer, tucking herself under his chin and wrapping her arms around him. His body trembles a little and he sniffles, and she knows he’s trying to keep his cries quiet, hidden from his sister. Clarke holds him firmly, saying nothing while he tries to muffle the sound of his cries in his pillow, in her hair. His arms around her feel desperate, clutching at her. It makes her own eyes sting, as if every place their skin touches is transferring his pain to her.

She only wishes that was the case. She would take his pain from him in an instant, if she could.

When he seems to have calmed, she runs a hand up and down his arm gently. She speaks slowly, trying to control the emotion closing up her own throat. “I’m sorry you have to go through this, but you’re not alone. You’ve got me, no matter what. We’ll get through this together, okay?”

“Together,” he repeats in a whisper. His hand tightens into a fist on her back and then relaxes. He pulls back just enough to meet her eyes, and the fingers of his free hand brush some hair away from her face. Goosebumps rise on her flesh in response and she bites back a shiver. “I… I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarke.”

Her smile is small—she’s not even sure he’s able to see it. “You’ll never have to know.”

She sees the way his lips twitch upward just a little, feels him move a little closer once again. When he kisses her, it’s soft, the barest touch of his lips to hers, more for comfort than anything else. It’s over too soon, but he breathes a sigh as he seems to relax, and then pulls her closer, tucking her into his body and wrapping an arm over her.  

“Your sister is still on the other side of me,” she warns, gently, even as she settles against him.

She feels his body shake just a little with his quiet laugh. “I don’t think she’ll mind.”

At some point during the night, she feels Octavia shift and sit up. She must realize her brother returned home, definitely sees the way that Clarke is tangled together with him, but she doesn’t say anything. She just curls herself around Clarke, snaking an arm over her stomach and pressing her face between her shoulder blades.

When morning comes, they eat breakfast, the door to Aurora’s room closed, and then Bellamy walks Clarke out to her car.

“I don’t have to go,” she says, turning and resting her back against the car door. He tucks his hands into his pockets and stands in front of her, glancing back at the house.

“It might make things more complicated. I… I’m going to talk to her again. It’s all I can do for now.”

His brow is furrowed and Clarke reaches out run a hand down his arm. When his hand comes out of his pocket at the action, she twines their fingers together. He looks down at their linked hands for a long moment, and she squeezes once when he doesn’t say anything.

Their eyes meet and he smiles, sheepish. “I guess… I guess we should talk about…”

He’s scrambling and so she saves him the struggle, stretching up on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. He turns his head and catches her mouth in a full kiss, this one much deeper than the one from the night before. It’s much longer too, long enough that she’s able to appreciate the way it makes her heart race, the way her veins buzz with the feeling of him so close.

When they break apart, he grins, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Good talk.”

And she smiles, too, which is stupid, because there is so much stress in his life, and hers by association. Yet, standing beside her car, tucked close together, it’s easy to pretend for just a moment that those problems don’t exist.

But they do, so Clarke pulls away from him. “Call me later, okay? Let me know how it goes.”

“I will.” He hesitates, looking down at their hands again. His thumb brushes across her knuckles. “I love you.”

She almost laughs that he was nervous to say that, wonders if it was what he had almost responded in his text the night before. There is no hesitation when she responds. “I love you, too.”

On the drive home, she can’t help glancing over at her phone to see if he’s said anything—if his mom is awake yet, if Octavia has said anything, if he needs her to come back. Once she’s parked back at her house, she opens up his text conversation and types, the words coming easily.

**Just remember I’m here**  
**if you need anything.**  
**You’re not alone and you**  
**never will be. I love you.**

A few minutes go by, and she’s plugging her phone into her bedroom charger when it buzzes.

**I know, and that means**  
**the world to me, princess.**  
**Thank you.**

He’s still typing, so she waits, smiling when the message pops up.

**And I love you, too.**


End file.
